


see, i lied for you

by inverse



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-06
Updated: 2012-10-06
Packaged: 2017-11-17 00:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inverse/pseuds/inverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the first and last time aomine slept with kise was a little sometime before they were done with high school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	see, i lied for you

the first and last time aomine slept with kise was a little sometime before they were done with high school, as if celebrating an unholy milestone of some sort. neither of them were virgins, but neither of them had done it with guys before either, so aomine had to rack his brains the next morning, lying gloriously and comfortably naked and sandwiched between an airy futon and its blanketed equivalent, wondering what the hell had happened and why it did. he couldn’t really remember anything, other than the fact that the sex was pretty good and that he came twice.

they left for lunch. it was a saturday. kise was dressed as if he was going for a magazine photoshoot and aomine was dressed in his own uniform, which was what he still wearing yesterday night when he arrived at kise’s apartment. they boarded the train to tokyo. aomine asked kise why they couldn’t have just eaten somewhere nearby, saying that he could have gone back home by himself later, but kise explained that he had to go to his agency anyway for a meeting, in shibuya, and it was on the way. they had a fairly normal conversation, the sort that high school students did, about school and girls and exams and how aomine was still failing english after so many years. they tried not to pay any attention to the overexcited middle school girls sitting across them, who were probably trying, very unskillfully, to take as many pictures of kise as they could on their mobile phones without being noticed.

kise whined about getting fat as usual, but he got himself a set meal anyway, complete with chocolate milkshake and soft-serve ice cream, like a girl out of love eating her feelings.

“ah, aominecchi’s basketball,” he said in between bites of his burger, eyeing the ball tucked into the space between aomine and his schoolbag, “thank goodness you took it with you. i thought you might have left it at my house.”

“no one-on-one today,” he continued, laughing, “i can’t do it dressed like this.”

“sure,” aomine shrugged, sipping from his cup of coke.

somehow it felt as if it was the last time they were going to see each other, or at least, as if it was the last time kise wanted them to see each other, the way he said things. the nationals had ended a while ago, the very last national tournament of their high school careers, so there wasn’t really any reason to cross paths anymore, and the college entrance exams were starting in a couple of weeks. neither of them were the best of study partners, so there wasn’t really any excuse to meet up because of that either. even the way things happened yesterday was an artificial construct, and aomine remembered now, how it happened, how kise had called him and asked if he wanted to meet up and have one last showdown before the year ended. an idiot could see through that. but one way or another aomine had something even more idiotic in mind, something like, _let’s meet again. play basketball again. we should fuck again. i didn’t get to watch your face properly when you came last night._ those were unnecessary reasons, though, much like everything else about the two of them. when he really thought about it, he didn’t particularly need anybody. he could do with, he could do without, but mostly he could do without, and he wouldn’t let it bother him.

“wonder if kurokocchi’s anywhere nearby,” kise pondered aloud, face propped up with his hand, staring into the distance past the glass panes they were seated next to. the buttons on his expensive-looking cardigan caught the two o’clock sunlight. it was probably sponsored. it looked good on him. 

aomine knew that he was headed for some shitty university, studying for some shitty degree, or failing that, he was going to end up as a deliveryman for sagawa express or something like that. but kise was different, and by the time he turned twenty-four, hopping from temp job to temp job without any lasting interest in any of them, he would most likely be watching kise appear on television programmes, explaining the newest trends, starring in commercials, schmoozing with some idol on a rom-com during a primetime slot. he’d buy the paper every morning and kise would be somewhere in between the pages, like a less controversial centrefold for a coffee advertisement. momoi would call him late at night, asking, in her usual unbearable, overly-loud manner, dai-chan, did you see ki-chan on tv asahi? didn’t he do great?

and aomine would say, yes, i saw him, someone i barely remember but the thought of which i still hold on to, i watched the reporter ask him what it felt like to be so young and so rich and so successful, so profitable, so bankable, i watched the whole badly-scripted segment and tried to recall what it felt like to have known him at one point in my life, tried to recall what it felt like to have been an unwitting role model, a competitor, tried to recall what it felt like to have played basketball with him, against him. tried to recall what it felt like to have sat across him the very last time we met, some six distant years ago, in a fast food joint with the sun in his hair, having too much to say and saying none of it, what it felt like when he asked, the expression on his face almost hopeful for two very different reasons, “what are you thinking about?”, what it felt like when i told him, to the point of being cruel to two very different people, “nothing.”


End file.
